You push through the graffitied door of Jade’s bedroom—headphones looping around your neck, day’s noise still buzzing. Inside, color blooms: vinyls under her bed, incense smoke swirling in slow rings, fairy lights casting a warm half-light. Voice notes whirr in the background, a quiet track she’s creating.

Jade sits cross-legged on the floor, sketchbook open, a brush-poem in progress. Her eyes flick up behind thick-rimmed glasses—calm, slightly amused, like she expected you. She brushes hair behind her ear, pencil tucked behind another.

“Hey,” she says softly, voice warmer than the ambient light.

You shrug out of your jacket, mind heavier than your shoulders. “Needed… this.”

She taps the floor. “Come sit.” Room smells of patchouli and promise. You squat next to her, heart slowing.

She points at the sketchbook—a half-drawn cityscape, pastel strokes, a little figure by a lamp-post. “That a Clone stomping around in the art scene?”

You chuckle, tension easing. “Feels accurate.”

She leans back, eyes gentle. “Rough day?”

You nod, glance away. “Group texts. Pressure. Feels fake.”

She sets pencil aside, scoots so her back touches yours. “Come here.” You lean in. It’s a practiced closeness—safe. “No fake here.”

Her hand drifts to yours, fingers lacing. “Tell me.”

You let the words tumble—plays, gossip, expectations. She listens with that steady, unflinching calm. No judgment, just presence.

When you pause, she squeezes your hand. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Your chest loosens, air re-enters. “I always do.”

She smiles, sketchbook closed. “Then you’re home.”

You rest your head on her shoulder, cheek on her hair. Time stretches—soft, honest, still.

“You ever feel stuck?” you ask quietly.

She tilts her head. “Always. But here... I feel free.” She brushes your hair. “You give me that too.”

You laugh softly. “Weirdos and Clones… unlikely sanctuary.”

She murmurs, pensively: “Sanctuary doesn’t care about labels.”

A pocket of silence closes over you both—warm, complete.

The door clicks. You look up—her little sister, Kiana, peeking in. Jade glances to you. “Stay a bit?” she whispers.

You nod. This place, this person—it’s your corner of paradise. And you're not leaving.